He Kisses Me When
by steepedinshadows419
Summary: Drabbles in Iris' POV based off different scenarios when Barry kisses her.
1. I Have Morning Breath

**A/N:** These drabbles roughly range from 200-600 words. Feel free to make requests. Enjoy!

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

*****I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

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**1\. I Have Morning Breath**

He catches me exactly five seconds after I wake up. After I've opened my eyes, registered his presence a few inches away, and inhaled the scent of my own breath – which is horrendous. His is probably pretty bad, too, but mine is definitely worse. I had oysters as a midnight snack again.

This is when he catches me. He leans forward for what is probably supposed to be a sweet morning peck but quickly turns into an open-mouthed tongues-tangling breathless onslaught that has me wrenching my mouth away at the last possible second, too mortified by the thought of his repulsion when he realizes that awful taste in his mouth belongs to me.

"Morning breath! Morning breath!"

He sighs, possibly annoyed.

"C'mon, Iris. It's not _that_ bad."

My jaw drops. "I ate oysters!" I squeak.

"_Again_?"

I pause, trying to put the pieces together.

"Wait, you weren't –"

"You're not talking about me?" He asks, confused and looking as adorable as ever.

"I ate oysters," I repeat, but this time a lopsided lazy smile accompanies the statement.

He reflects the grin on his own face.

"Don't I taste nasty?" I scrunch up my nose. "Oysters _and_ morning breath?"

He snuggles close and sends a delicious chill down my spine with an Eskimo kiss.

"You taste amaaazing," he purrs before kissing me again, full-on, no stops.

This time I let him.


	2. I Have Food in My Mouth

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

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**2\. I Have Food in My Mouth**

His lips are warm and soft, pliable against mine, and I can feel him try to deepen the kiss, even with my mouth full of cereal and close-lipped.

Finally, I can't take it. I want him too.

"Okay, okay, wait a minute!"

I break away and chew and swallow my food as fast as I can without choking. I down my glass of orange juice to rid my mouth of any remnants of crunchy cereal or the strawberries from earlier and quickly dab at my lips so they're clean for kissing.

"Okay." I smile brilliantly. "I'm ready."

He smiles warmly, just barely holding in a chuckle, and cups my face to pull me close.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

I feel electricity down to my toes at the compliment and shift myself still closer.

"Like you didn't want to stick your tongue down my throat," I challenge, sifting my fingers through his messy sleep hair and drawing a whimper of a moan from him.

My name is on his lips, and I take the initiative to stick my tongue into his mouth, greedily tangling with his as I slip one hand inside his t-shirt.

And yeah, neither of us are leaving this room with just a kiss.


	3. I'm Sick

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

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**3\. I'm Sick**

"No, no, no, no, NO!" I insist, huddled in bed, a burning fever, chills, and the urge to throw up every 20 minutes or so. "You are not kissing me. You are _not_."

He chuckles as he comes towards me with soup and crackers, a glass of 7up on the tray I use when I want to surprise him with breakfast in bed.

"What makes you think I'm going to kiss you?" he teases, and I'm a little put off.

He's the _Flash_. He has _super healing_. Can't he afford me one kiss amidst the misery that is this accursed flu?

I realize how ridiculous I'm being, and then I sense his gaze looking down at me adoringly as he sits on the side of the bed. My nose is scrunched and my lips are pursed, and I look disgusting, but he doesn't see that, and it makes me love him even more.

"What?" I demand, trying not to melt under his deep, green eyes and long lashes.

"You're cute," he says, and it sounds so sincere when he says it that I can't help but believe it.

"I'm sick," I say, not convincing him at all that I didn't like his compliment.

He leans forward and kisses my chapped lips before I can stop them.

"You taste sick," he says, chuckling a little when I frown. He lifts a spoonful of chicken noodle soup up and moves it towards my mouth. I shake my head.

"I'll throw it up," I say, not wanting to heave the contents on both our laps.

"Maybe you won't," he says and kisses me again without comment.

I down three spoonfuls before I have to puke. I get to the bathroom in time – thankfully – and then let him tuck me back in bed.

"We'll try again in an hour," he says, and kisses the side of my face.

I nod complacently, content somehow with him beside me. I reach for his hand, and he understands.

He stays put and whisper-sings his proposal song to me until I fall asleep.

I love this man with all my heart and soul.


	4. I Am Feeling Sad

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

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**4\. I Am Feeling Sad**

It wakes me up in the middle of the night, this overwhelming feeling of sadness. The date is coming. It's practically inevitable. Barry, the love of my life, is going to disappear, never to return.

It feels so wrong. He's so young. We're so young. I can hardly take the sadness overwhelming me at losing him this final time, this forever goodbye. Tears slip down my cheeks, and before I know it, I'm shaking.

Barry senses this. He always does. He's roused from his sleep and turns to look at me.

"Iris?" he calls out, his voice still groggy from sleep.

"Barry," I return, my bottom lip trembling, tears in my voice.

His eyes open slowly, not in a flash. He's tired, and I feel bad for waking him.

He doesn't ask if I'm okay or what's wrong. He simply whispers, "C'mere," and shifts closer to me so I don't have to go far.

He kisses my forehead and then the side of my face, my cheeks, the corner of my lips, and then he nuzzles me, and I sigh contentedly. The future is scary, and I'm afraid. But in his arms like this, I am safe.


	5. I Am Sleepy

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

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**5\. I Am Sleepy**

I'm tired. _So_ tired. But this article isn't going to finish itself.

I've been halfway through the second sentence of the third paragraph for the last 45 minutes, and I hate how I keep losing track of what exactly I was saying. Something about metas and the everyday criminal, I'm sure… And how both can be just as dangerous? Or redeemable? Or…something. I can't remember. I can't remember anything, except how tired I am and how many times my head has fallen from my propped hand on the table when I dozed off.

"You should go to bed, Iris," my darling husband informs me, even as he brings a mug of my favorite dark roast to the table beside my computer, and I immediately take a sip.

"Mmm, so good." I look up at him and smile. "Thanks, babe."

He leans down and kisses me, then whispers against my lips.

"It's almost one a.m., Iris. Come to bed."

"I will in a minute," I promise, and it's clear he doesn't believe me. I don't make an effort to acknowledge or change his opinion, though.

At six a.m. he wakes without me beside him and finds me snoring at the table when he comes downstairs to make breakfast. He shakes his head but rubs my back to rouse me from my sleep. My forehead sticks to a piece of paper before it plops down on the keyboard.

"Oh," I say, and he smiles.

"Pancakes?"

I look up at him and grin. "Pancakes."

He kisses me again, then heads for the kitchen.


	6. I Am Relaxing in the Bath

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**6\. I Am Relaxing in the Bath**

An audible sigh escapes me as I slowly sink into the warm bath water, my hair up in a bun and my body aching from a long day of running around the city in pursuit of evidence for a serial killer that caught my interest. My Dad and Barry don't know about it. Only Cisco does, and mum's the word. I just have to hope he won't tell Caitlin, because she – ironically – can't tolerate secrets now and will go straight to Barry (he'll take to her better), who will then try to process how to respond to the situation.

I didn't lie to him this time, so he can't be mad about that. I feel guilty every time I have to do that when I believe so strongly in a story. But if false promises need to be made to keep my husband from preventing my following through on them, so be it.

I'm glad I didn't have to do that this time, though. This time I was simply very crafty and kept all knowledge of what I was doing from both of the very protective men in my life.

My dad will naturally walk in on my husband trying to decide how to react and give his very strong opinion, which will convince my husband to have that same opinion and to carry out his wishes, which he will no doubt do, albeit much more nicely than my dad would have done.

In the end I'm mad, so I'm hoping Cisco is a good secret-keeper and that at least my dad doesn't know. Barry I can calm with kisses and love declarations and sex. Dad is a little harder.

Throwing all that to the wayside, I let my thoughts slip away and close my eyes as the water swallows me whole save for my head pressed against the far side and my toes peeking out by the faucet.

I'm so content that I don't hear or feel the wind from the door opening and closing, but I hear _his_ voice and know I'm in trouble.

"Joe told me what you were digging up today."

My eyes flash open, and I turn to look at him, _I can explain_ on the tip of my tongue.

"Are you mad?" I ask instead, nibbling on my bottom lip.

He shakes his head and crosses the room to me.

"You're not?" My brows fuse together.

He chuckles. "No. I knew what I was getting myself into when I married you."

I grin as he leans down to kiss me and then gasp as he climbs into the bathtub fully clothed save for his shoes, socks, and jacket.

"Barry! What are you-" I squeal, but he only laughs and settles himself on the other end, having to bend his knees up considerably so he can fit the full length. I laugh too then because he just looks so uncomfortable. "Barry," I coo, shaking my head.

"This idea was better in my head," he admits.

So, so in love with him, I get on my knees and crawl over to him, climbing into his laps and well aware of how his eyes keep drifting down to my breasts.

"Let me make you comfortable," I say, and this time I'm the one to kiss him.


	7. I Am Searching for Something I Lost

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

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**7\. I Am Searching for Something I Lost**

I can't find them anywhere. They're pretty jewels hanging from a pearl strand that go perfectly with my dress, and I can't find them anywhere!

Barry's trying to help. I know he is. But he doesn't know how I organize my make-up or my clothes. I'm supposed to expect him to know where my jewelry is?

No, I don't think so.

Still, as I pace back and forth throughout our bedroom and bathroom, I can't help but be aware of him standing in the middle of the bedroom, not moving to avoid me running into him, and running his hand through his hair, gripping his locks because he doesn't know what to do to help me and he's afraid to do nothing.

"Iris…"

"Yeah, Barry?" I ask, still digging through drawers of jewelry and make-up.

And then it must occur to him what he can do, because he takes one step, halts me with his hands on my arms and kisses me before I can stop him, his lips pressed to mine in a surprisingly sensuous kiss.

Something occurs to me, and I break away.

"What? What?" His eyes are wide.

"My coat pocket." I grin wide and instantly take off for the stairs.

He follows me quickly and watches as I reach the door, then the coat hangers, then my dress coat and reach inside.

"No," he says in disbelief.

My smile spreads somehow further as I turn to dangle the earrings before him.

"Guess you're my lucky charm, Allen," I say, and I know I've boosted his ego, but I don't care.

Barry Allen is my everything.


	8. I Am Mad

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

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**8\. I Am Mad**

I'm boiling; absolutely infuriated. Nothing could make me madder in this instant, but Wally – who has just woken up from his night over on the couch – somehow achieves that feat by asking what the big deal is.

"Oh, no," Barry says as I turn to face my brother, my fingers curled into fists at my side so I don't start clawing his eyes out with my fingernails.

"What's the big deal?"

"Sorry for what?" Wally asks aloud, and I know Barry has just mouthed to his brother-in-law to apologize. "So, your editor didn't like your story. Write another one."

I stomp toward him, unable to decide which infuriates me more, him not realizing what the big deal is or him not feeling bad about the fact that he's made me so mad.

I finally see him worrying for his own safety at least as I get closer because he's backing up and has himself pinned to the wall before I'm inches away pointing my finger at him.

"The 'big deal' is that this story will change lives. The 'big deal' is that I risked my life getting the information to write this story-"

"Wait, what?" His eyes widen and Barry's face falls into his palm.

I probably shouldn't have informed my little brother about that part. Oops.

"The big deal is-"

"Uh-uh, you're not getting out of it that easily. Your life? What happened, Iris?" He's suddenly soft with me, and part of me loves it, but the part of me that's still mad at him doesn't. How dare he be concerned when he could've cared less about the story two seconds ago!

"Iris?" Barry tries, and for some god forsaken reason I turn around and address him.

"What?" I demand, though he hardly deserves it.

He walks up to me, sets his hands on my shoulders, and looks me in the eye.

"If anyone can change that man's mind, it's you." He lowers his head to kiss me, and I reciprocate – much to Wally's annoyance. "I love you."

I melt. Completely melt into his embrace.

"I love you, too."

"Ugh. Get a room, you two," Wally says, and actually leaves the loft. I don't care. He'll be back later for pizza and telling me how great of a writer and big sister I am – if history has told me anything.

Right now, my husband is kissing me, and there's not much more to care about than that.


	9. I Talk Too Much

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

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**9\. I Talk Too Much**

I'm unaware – completely – that I'm rambling almost as fast as my husband can when he's excited. I think said husband is listening intently as I rail on about something that happened at work, something stupid, something that was both good and bad and I can't stop talking about.

"And so then –" I stop talking to laugh. "I can't believe it. Can you believe that, Barry?" I smack his chest lightly. He winces, but not because it hurt.

"He – they – it actually, oh my _God_."

He forces a smile. "Mhmm."

"Barry, are you listening?" I frown.

He nods. "Yep." So I continue.

It's not until several minutes later, when honestly I've forgotten what I was talking about and started repeating myself, that I realize Barry has been awfully quiet. I think to myself _have I been talking this whole time?_

"Barry, what was I talking about?" I ask, the fact that he was falling asleep beyond me and not worth discussing because it hasn't really hit me yet.

"Um…"

"Oh, never mind, I remember."

"Oh, no, you don't." He sits up quickly and leans in with a rush.

"What – Mmm," comes my muffled moan, and I think to myself, maybe kissing is better than talking right now.


	10. I Am Scared

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

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**10\. I Am Scared**

I'm hiding under the desk in my office. There's been a citywide alert for a new meta that can control electricity. Several people have been electrocuted and now the whole city's power is out, gathered up in this meta's body.

Barry's running around saving people. Cisco and Caitlin are busy helping him out from STAR Labs, where I would be if Barry and my dad hadn't told me to stay put. They don't want me to be the next person electrocuted. I listen to them, since I have no protective gear and STAR Labs isn't exactly close.

But because I'm not helping out, all I can think about is how scared I am. Not just for me, but for the whole of Central City. For Barry, because he's _my_ Barry, and I won't feel safe until he's in front of me again, warm and happy and safe himself, even if the city-wide power outage is still in place.

The lights turn on, and my phone rings. My cell. I see who it is and breathe a sigh of relief.

"Barry?" Hope and tears are in my voice, and in a flurry he's there before me, his grin faltering for a moment when he can't tell if I'm okay. "Barry." Relief spills off my tongue, and I nearly crumble until he's there catching me and holding me close.

"I'm okay, Iris. Everything's all right."

He's stroking my hair tenderly, holding me up, and I'm telling myself to believe what I'm saying.

"I know…I know…"

Oh, his chest is so solid, his arms so strong, his words a sweet lullaby against my skin.

"Iris…" he urges softly, and I lift my head, tears welling in my eyes.

"You came back to me," I say, though he always does. I shouldn't doubt it by this point.

He nods, smiles shakily, cups my face in his hands and kisses me, warm and soft.

"Always," he whispers when we part, and suddenly, I'm not scared anymore.


	11. He Wants to Tempt Me in Public

*****Beta'd by** sendtherain**

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**11\. He Wants to Tempt Me in Public**

It's a gala for _Central City Citizen_. I'm getting my Pulitzer – _finally_ – probably. I'm in a satin, shimmering, deep violet gown that's snug and fairly low-cut on the top and flowy from the waist down with a high slit for my left leg. My heels are higher than usual. They shimmer too. And my hair is in a high knot with tendrils of hair floating down around the sides of my face and the base of my neck.

Barry Allen, husband of _Citizen_'s founder, can't keep his eyes off me.

I smile to myself, because year after year his eyes are still hot with lust, warm with love, and playful with mischief. I have the upper ground now, but before the end of the night we'll end up in a closet somewhere making out heavily, if not doing more. I just hope it's _after_ I receive the award that I know I'm going to get, because I will never forgive him if I walk onto that stage with sex hair.

It's five minutes before the ceremony is about to start, and Barry Allen joins me at our table where I'm nonchalantly sipping champagne.

"You look incredible," he whispers into my ear, sending a chill down my spine. It's not the first time he's said it this evening, but it still has the same effect as if it was. His hand dips halfway down my back, careful not to go into dangerous territory when everyone is getting ready for the host to appear on stage.

Smart, I think, and smirk to myself.

"You're not so bad yourself," I say in return, my eyes meeting his, full of lust and the mischief dancing in his eyes.

There are three ensembles I find myself unable to resist Barry Allen in: his Flash suit sans cowl, a tuxedo, and nothing at all. He knows it too, and he's using it to his advantage.

He takes his seat beside me, lounging appropriately with his hand on the top of my chair. No one else is at the table yet, and the surrounding tables are busy chatting about nothing. So, he meets my eyes, and I know exactly what he's doing.

"No," I say, but it only makes him smirk.

He straightens in his seat and leans towards me.

"I said no," I whisper heatedly, but my eyes are practically giggling with his persistence.

"So testy," he clicks his tongue, then places a soft kiss where jaw meets ear. I gasp. He's insatiable. I turn my head.

"One?" he queries, hopeful yet suave at the same time.

I flutter my eyelashes and succumb.

"I suppose."

He kisses me sensuously on the lips. It should feel like everyone's watching and I'm mortified to have been caught engaging in too much PDA with my husband. But it doesn't. It feels as if we're in a world all our own and nothing exists but the two of us.

I open my eyes into his warm green ones and see the lightning swirling around us out of the corner of my eye.

"Clever," I note, and he grins.

"Always."

Time resumes, and he sits back in his seat. It takes every ounce of my willpower to keep from dragging him into a closet upstairs before I'm called up on stage.

I manage it, but just barely.

"The Pulitzer goes to…Iris West-Allen!" rings in my ears 20 minutes later.

"Go," he urges with laughing eyes, and for as long as I'm on stage I'm able to stay in the moment.

But I dedicate the award, among other things, to him, and he's the one to drag me out of the room the second there's an intermission.


	12. He Wants to Win an Argument

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

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**12\. He Wants to Win an Argument**

He's laughing now, and it feels unfair. He's so sure that he's winning that I really want to push his buttons, want to make him admit what he refuses to even when all the evidence is right there. Because I'm right and he's wrong, and one of these days he's going to have to admit to it.

"You did!"

"I did _not_."

I open my mouth to speak, but he interrupts me.

"Iris, I have never liked the name Streak. I've always preferred the name Flash."

"Not when you forgot who you were!"

"I wasn't really me!"

"Oh, then who were you, huh?" I tease, and he leans in the same time I do.

"Bart," he says, then kisses me before I can respond.

Once I've recovered from the buzz of his kiss, I attempt a pout. I'm going in for the kill now and unsure what the result will be, but I'm prepared for the worst. A hurt Barry Allen.

"You just don't like it because I'm the one who came up with it."

His smile caves in, and I worry I've gone too far.

"Iris, you know that's not true."

"Isn't it?" I attempt to sniffle.

He pulls me into his arms, and I realize then and there I am an excellent actress.

"I'd have taken your last name if you wanted me to," he says, nuzzling against my neck and sending chills down my spine. "Besides, you like the name Flash better too."

"What makes you say that?" I ask, toes curling as my eyes close from his ministrations. I bite my bottom lip to hold in a moan.

"The second I suggested it you changed the name on all your articles and never mentioned the name Streak again until we talked about it on Jitters' rooftop."

I sigh.

"Caught red-handed, I guess."

"And with more than a few marks, I think," he murmurs against my skin, directly following the words with a hard nibbling near my sweet spot.

I can't decide whether to be baffled or turned on by the fact that my husband is giving me a hickey.

I do make a mental note to set out a turtleneck for the morning though.

A woman has her standards.


	13. He Needs a Distraction

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

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**13\. He Needs a Distraction**

It's one of those days. They happen every so often. A meta has managed to take Barry's powers from him, rendering him super-speedless and miserable as a normal person, not to mention hardly capable of taking down the bad guy. Vibe, Killer Frost, and Elongated Man do their best to help track him down, and Barry knows eventually they will, but it kills him that he's not involved. Not because he needs the glory and fame that comes with being a superhero. That's just a bonus. No, it kills him because he wants to help the way he's used to helping, and he can't.

"You're still my Barry," I tell him that morning, and he forces a smile.

"I know. Thank you, Iris."

He kisses the back of my hand, curling his fingers around mine, and then gets up and leaves for work at CCPD.

It's an hour past his lunch break when I can't stand it anymore. He always checks in with me on his lunch break. It's the highlight of my day until we get to see each other again after work. The fact that he doesn't tells me he must be really suffering under his workload, which normally takes him minutes instead of hours. His depression over not having speed for at least a full day no doubt makes it drag out even longer. He may not be a speedster temporarily, but time can drag slowly for even a regular person, and it certainly is today. For herself too.

Gnawing on my bottom lip, I come to a decision.

Grabbing my keys, I make my way out of the loft and drive down to CCPD. Walking takes too long, and I don't want to go all the way to STAR Labs just to get to Barry's lab instantly.

I'm upstairs and peeking into his room without him realizing it only moments later. He's not sleeping, but his head is face down on a pile of files. Several others line the tables around him. He's adorably overwhelmed, and I can't help but bite my lip as I lean against the doorway.

"Oh, honey."

He perks up at that, tipping his head up to make eye contact.

"Iris," he smiles, and my whole heart melts.

"Having a rough day?" I ask, walking into the room towards him.

He sighed. "Just…slow."

I nod, understanding.

"You need a distraction, I think."

He looks up at me, and his cheeks turn a bright red. If I could blush, I would too.

"You have work to do," I say, smacking his shoulder. "We don't have time for that."

He laughs. "Then what?"

I shrug innocently and lean towards him, my ruby lips on full display. He shakes his head and closes the distance between us, cupping my cheeks in his hands before muttering.

"You're going to kill me, woman."

I flutter my eyelashes, and he kisses the smirk off my face.


	14. He's Feeling Nostalgic

*****Beta'd by sendtherain

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**14\. He's Feeling Nostalgic**

I hear him sigh wistfully across the room. It's the third time he's done it this morning. I'm starting to get concerned since he never explains himself and just offers a halfhearted smile or frown my way when he senses my curious stare. I can't tell if the sigh is good or bad. I can't tell anything, and it is driving me nuts.

Finally, I get up from where I'm settled at the table and walk towards him. I stop suddenly when I see what he's holding in his hand – and what is sitting on the end table just inches from him.

Pictures of us. From just recent years, from when we were kids…and in his hand, our wedding portrait. My eyes mist at the sight of it and the fact that my husband has spent goodness knows how long just recalling the memories those photos draw from. The mysterious tones of his sighs make perfect sense to me now.

"A little nostalgic, are we?" I ask, rubbing his shoulders lightly as I come to stand behind him.

He nods, takes one of my hands in his and kisses my fingers, making my heart flutter.

"Barry," I whisper, suddenly breathless.

"Sit with me," he implores softly, and I have no problem granting his request.

Reluctantly, I pull my hand away and round the couch to sit snuggled up next to him. He stares for the longest time into my eyes, and I swear I've spotted a million shades of green in his irises before the trance he puts me under lets up.

His eyes drop to my parted lips and then up to my loving eyes. They do that once, twice more; then he's leaning in and melting into me, and nothing exists except our lips pressed against each other and the streaming sunlight pouring down on us through the windows.


	15. He Wants to Cheat During a Game

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

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**15\. He Wants to Cheat During a Game and Distract Me**

My husband thinks he's so clever. Ever since he got his super speed more than a decade ago, he's shockingly become a winner at almost every game during every family game night. He was always competitive growing up, once he'd become truly comfortable living in the West family household, but he didn't win _every time_.

I'm not blind, and I'm not stupid. I know he's cheating. He doesn't do it constantly, but he does it enough to win. The twins are only four and haven't quite gotten a handle on their speed yet, so they can't keep up with him, but it is particularly bothersome to me when he cheats off them at this age.

It's ridiculous!

He catches my eye now, a glint in them and a smirk on his face. Normally it'd be sexy as hell, but I catch his meaning. I've been trying to guard our children as best as I can with them sitting closer to me than to him. (We're playing Go Fish for crying out loud.) But he's still gonna try it. I can't believe it, but he is.

"Hey, Iris," he says suavely, and I try to ignore how the tone of his voice makes me weak in the knees.

"Yeah, _Barry_?" I pop the 'b'.

"I have a question for you."

I glare. It's his turn, and he's chosen me to ask. I hold my cards close to my chest.

But then he leans across the space between him and his little family and kisses me, making my eyes flutter shut and warming my insides.

"Ew!" Don says, making me smile and forget we're playing a game.

"You dropped your cards, Mommy!" Nora says, and my eyes flash open as I look down and my husband quickly gathers them up for me – but not before quickly looking at what they are, I'm sure of it.

"Not again." Don shakes his head.

Barry smirks as he settles back down.

"Do you have any fours?"

I look at my hands and annoyingly find three fours in front of me. Grumbling, I hand them over to him. He's smiling like the smug bastard he is.

"Daddy, you cheated!" Nora accuses, and it warms my heart that she comes to my defense. Normally she's such a daddy's girl.

Barry mockingly gasps.

"Why would you _say_ that?" And he looks so genuinely hurt Nora actually feels bad.

"_Barry_," I warn.

"I saw him do it!" Don proclaims, and now I'm the one smiling smugly. "Give all your fours to mommy."

"Oh, yes, that's a good idea!" Nora says, excitedly jumping in her pretzel position.

Barry looks at all three of us and boldly says, "That's against the rules!"

"Ha!" I say, and my children jump in.

"You _cheated_."

Rolling his eyes, he hands the cards over, and I gloat.

"Thank you, Barry," I say, batting my eyelashes.

I don't win every time, and I don't even win this game. Barry still does. But our children call him out every time he tries to cheat, and that's good enough for me.


	16. He's Jealous

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

...

**16\. He's Jealous**

He's jealous again. I'm pretending not to see it, but I know.

Barry Allen is the most attractive man in the world to me, despite what my teasing of Oliver Queen being hot might suggest, because he's the total package. He's a cute nerd and a smooth superhero. He has a heart of gold and is my very best friend. He'd do anything in the world to protect me, and he's so in love with me I know he'd never stray.

So truly, he has no reason in the world to be jealous.

But he is.

Because a muscular, traditionally good-looking man by the name of Dale has sent a drink over to me three times while Barry was off helping someone catch their balance or quick following the sound of a siren outside the night club. Seconds in the grand scheme of things, but this sleezebag noticed. And then Barry noticed. And when I harmlessly flirted to get _Dale_ off my back, Barry _really_ noticed.

"Hey, Iris," he says, watching Dale across the room. "Will you dance with me?"

I know it's mostly due to showing male dominance on the dance floor, but I can't help it. My heart leaps into my throat at the prospect of dancing with my man – slow-dancing, dirty dancing, fast dancing, all of it.

Of course, the first song that hits the floor requires sexy dancing, and Barry is grinding up against me in no time. I stifle a moan because I could not be more turned on right now if I tried. Barry is seconds away from moving his hands on my hips to my breasts, and my body is aching for him to do it.

"Iris," he whispers hotly in my ear, and the sound alone makes me delirious with pleasure.

"Yeah?" I whisper back breathily.

He turns my head back a little further and seals any words with a passionate kiss.

I'm drowning in intoxication, and Dale leaves the club.


	17. He's Flirting with Me

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

...

**17\. He's Flirting with Me**

I know I'm in trouble when the first thing he says after looking at me is, "Wow".

And not a sarcastic _wow_, but a "wow, you take my breath away," _wow_.

He's undressing me with his eyes, and I'm not doing much to help as I turn to face him. I'm wearing a black string bikini that does little to hide what's beneath, and already I can see how turned on he is. My eyes drop to his swim trunks though, and I'm disappointed to see there isn't so much as a bulge pushing against the front of them.

He laughs when it dawns on him what I'm doing, and he comes towards me, runs his hands down my arms and hesitates before brushing his thumbs over my barely covered nipples.

"_Barry_."

I shiver, but I'm a little scandalized, since we're barely protected in the shade at a public pool.

"Don't blame me, angel," he purrs, and I'm on fire again. "You're the one wearing next to nothing."

He takes a step closer to me, and I realize that his trunks are just baggy, and he is in fact getting harder by the second.

"I…I can wear what I want." I gulp.

He leans in to whisper into my ear, as he teases the knot on the back of my top.

"God, you're beautiful."

That's it. I'm absolute putty.

"Does your husband know you're here?"

Well, that shocks me like nothing else. So much so that I yank my head back and come smack in contact with his delicious lips. I moan into the embrace as his hands curl around my jaw line.

"You're my husband," I mumble when we start to break apart for air.

He smiles against me. "Oh, yeah, that's right."


	18. We're Both Soaking Wet

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

...

**18\. We're Both Soaking Wet**

Every so often, I write my stories with paper and pen. I don't just take notes. I write the whole thing. Then, when I'm sure of it, I type it onto my laptop and probably edit it half a dozen more times. Most of the time I type it straight away with just the written notes as a guideline, but there's something refreshing about being out in nature and writing.

Today is one of those writing days.

I told Barry about it earlier, and being the perfect husband that he is, he insists I should take a break at noon and we can have picnic lunch under the big oak tree in the park.

It's endearing, so I can't bring myself to say no. Even though I know he'll probably be late – crime never stops in Central City – I stop writing at exactly 11:55am and make the short walk to the oak tree in the park.

Barry surprises me by flashing in front of me three feet before the trees shadow takes over the grass, and I gasp and then laugh and then swoon at the bouquet of roses he's bought me.

"Thank you, Barry."

I inhale their scent and then take them from him, indulging him so that boyish grin spreads wider across his face.

"I'm not late," he says, and I laugh.

"No, you're no-"

And just like that, thunder crackles, lightning strikes, and even Barry's super speed can't get us out of there before the downpour.

We're inside the nearest building in seconds and dripping from the rain.

"Well, that was unexpec-"

He cuts me off again, this time to cup my face and kiss my lips, and I sink into him because God, this man has the best surprises.

I hum appreciatively when he finally pulls back.

"Might've been more romantic in the rain," I comment.

He scoffs. "Oh, come o-"

I pull him back, laughing, before he can further complain, and kiss him hard.

"Where do you think you're going?" I tease.

He shakes his head and kisses me again, softer this time.

"Wherever you go, I go."

I smile and nuzzle him and pull out the keys to our loft.

"This body won't shower itself."

He grins, takes my hand and heads out into the rain, stopping in the middle of an empty street to kiss me before flashing us to our building.

God, I love this man.


	19. He's Supposed to Help Me

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

...

**19\. He's Supposed to Help Me with a ****_Citizen_**** Story Deadline**

The man is a sweet talker. That much I know for sure. He gets me resources, prompts certain stories, tells me all he can find out as the Flash, and gushes over every article the _Central Citizen_ produces.

So, when he offers to help me with my next story, _of course_ I say yes. I'm only to happy to.

I don't realize that when the story is not wrapped up in under two hours, my resourceful husband will lose his patience. I don't predict that his libido will rise, and his goal for the evening will turn into seducing me by whatever means possible.

I'm typing diligently away on my laptop, but my typing slows when he goes from standing beside me to standing behind me to standing over me to lowering his head, and then out of nowhere, MY HUSBAND IS KISSING MY NECK. HE IS KISSING MY SWEET SPOT. HE IS DRIVING ME INSANE.

"Baaarry," I purr, making a feeble attempt to push him off me. "You're supposed to be helping me."

"I _am_ helping you," he murmurs against my skin, and I make the mistake of turning my face towards his ministrations.

"By doing _wha_-"

He seals my lips with a kiss, and I'm reciprocating before I can stop myself. In fact, I might've let the night go in the direction he's hoping sooner rather than later if he hadn't been so daring as to pull my spaghetti strap off one shoulder and start reaching for the other as we continue to make out.

"Mm- Mm-" I shake my head, pulling away. I brace my hand on his chest, which is probably a mistake, as I declare, "I have to finish this, Barry! And you're supposed to be helping me! Not…seducing me!" I point an angry finger at him with a pout, and I know exactly what he's thinking.

How I'm so cute when I'm mad.

Well, he better not say it.

He doesn't, but that smirk on his lips and twinkle in his eyes are almost just as bad.

"I thought I was helping," he says smoothly. Before I can respond, he points to all the sources he brought with him strewn out on the table. "Are these not good enough for you, Mrs. West-Allen?" he teases, and I must admit, hearing him call me that always turns me to goo.

"That's not what I was talking about, and you know it!"

He laughs. "So, what are you-"

I push my chair back and stand as tall as I can with my short height. He looks so amused that I want to kick him, but I yank his head down and kiss him instead, and there go my priorities for the night. Sex on the table takes precedence.


	20. We're Babysitting for Joe and Cecile

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

...

**20\. We're Babysitting for Joe and Cecile**

We're babysitting for my dad and Cecile. In the past, we always seemed to be too busy, but pregnant as I am now, we figure it's a good idea to actually see what we're getting ourselves into.

Barry is _so excited_ to be a dad, it makes my heart melt. I'm excited too, but the look he gets on his face when he talks about the pregnancy and the nursery and possible middle names reminds me of the old days when he used to only talk about science and equations with such enthusiasm. Now he does it for our daughter.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks when he catches me staring at him from the doorway.

He's just laid a two-year-old Jenna down in her bed and brushed her cheek before pulling the covers up to her shoulders. He didn't know I was watching, though I'm wondering now if somehow he did.

"Nothing," I say with a shrug, unconsciously moving my hands over my baby bump.

He smiles, comes towards me and leans down to kiss my bump before meeting my eyes again, his twinkling a brilliant green.

"I already love our daughter so much."

I can hardly catch my breath when he talks like this.

"I know," I say. "Me too."

"And I love you," he says, as he intertwines our fingers and sets their hold on my belly.

"I love you," I say back, so taken with him he could probably ask me to do anything right now, and I'd do it.

He doesn't ask though, just bends his head down, and I lift my chin up, our lips meeting in a sweet, simple kiss. And I think to myself, this babysitting gig isn't half bad.


	21. I Am Stressed and Overwhelmed

*****Beta'd by **sendtherain**

...

**21\. I Am Stressed and Overwhelmed**

I am stressed.

There's no point denying it, even though I've tried to several times already. The twins are having their first music recital ever, and they're going to nail it! Totally. They are.

But… their speed has recently come to life in both of them. Moreso in Nora, but Don has a good amount too. And, what, they're five? If a spurt of speed comes out in either of them mid-recital, I might very well lose my mind.

How do you explain that to a crowded room of people?

Better yet, what if one of them starts crying because they can't control it?

That's happened a few times. It wasn't pretty.

But all my overwhelming thoughts are put to a halt when Barry walks in and announces that all is well now that the twins are set up with their teacher backstage.

"And just to be safe," he says, grasping my shoulders so I stop pacing. "I gave Nora a pretty bracelet and Don a neat bowtie, both of which happen to have meta-power dampeners embedded into them. Courtesy of Uncle Cisco."

He grins, then adds when my shoulders slump, "Just for tonight, so you don't lose your mind."

"I was not-"

But he cuts me off with the most sensuous kiss, and I decide yeah, okay, maybe there's no harm in taking extra precautions in public until our adorable children know how to control the DNA their father so lovingly bestowed upon them.

"Thank you," I murmur after a particularly soft kiss.

He takes my hand, intertwines our fingers, and leads me out of the empty room to our seats amidst the crowd.


	22. I'm Laughing

**A/N:** I'm back with the rest! Drabbles 22-25 coming your way.

*****Many thanks to **sendtherain** for beta'ing.

...

**22\. I'm Laughing**

I'm laughing. I'm laughing _so hard_. I don't even know what I'm laughing about anymore, because the giggles and the snorts just keep spilling out of me, and I honestly don't know how the only thing Barry can do is slightly smile when he sees me like this.

"W-What?" I snicker, attempting to cover my mouth with my hand and failing.

He just shakes his head at me.

"You are too cute."

For some reason that makes me laugh even louder. I shake my head, eyes closed as they fill with happy tears from laughing too long and too hard.

"Not cute."

"Oh, you are," he says, sliding out of his chair and onto the couch next to me.

Before I know it, he's gathered me into his arms and put me on his lap, and I'm still laughing, and he's still shaking his head and smiling, and then all of a sudden he kisses me, and even then I giggle against his lips.

"It's not that funny," he says, and miraculously I stop for a moment.

"What's not?"

He bursts out laughing then, and I start lightly pounding on his chest, frowning because I've forgotten, and he hasn't, and he isn't going to tell me for the life of me.

"What's not? What's not?!"

He stands up suddenly and lays me back down on the couch. He hovers over my body, and I feel myself melting in my core. He leans down and kisses my silent lips. I wrap my arms around his neck and wind one leg over his calf as I tug him closer.

"Mmm, Barryyy."

"Not marrying you in a cow barn," he finally says, reminding me.

I start laughing again.


	23. I'm Lost in a Train of Thought

*****Many thanks to **sendtherain** for beta'ing.

...

**23\. I'm Lost in a Train of Thought**

I'm sitting beside Barry on a train passenger seat, our fingers entwined. He's as close to me as he can be without sitting on my lap, but still I worry. I worry, because I'm four months pregnant and something might be wrong with our baby. We have to travel two states out to a special meta doctor, and I can't stop thinking about what a meta doctor is doing outside of Central City when Central City was the only place affected by the particle accelerator explosion.

But then I remember all the heroes of the multiverse came together and helped create a new world and now everything is different.

Still, it is cause for concern, and no reassuring on Barry's part is going to change my mind about that.

"Iris?" He calls to me, and I turn my head away from the window.

There's a pretty woman offering beverages on the other side of Barry, and I force a smile.

"Just water, please."

"With lemon," Barry whispers, as if I can't hear him at his quietest by now.

I appreciate the gesture though. I do prefer water with lemon.

He takes an apple juice like the little kid he is at heart, and then he clinks our glasses with a smile.

"You're distracted," he says.

I shake my head. "I'm not."

He leans forward and kisses me sweetly on the lips.

"Maybe a little," I say and set my glass down to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him properly back.

"It'll be fine," he whispers, and I sigh a little. "I love you."

"I love you," I respond, butterflies filling me when he nuzzles our noses.

He lays one hand on my baby bump and smooths it over gently.

"She'll be fine."

I don't respond, but I snuggle close. I'm not distracted anymore.


	24. I'm Doing the Dishes

*****Many thanks to **sendtherain** for beta'ing.

...

**24\. I'm Doing the Dishes**

I'm not bitter.

I'm _not_.

It's the life of a superhero's wife, and I've come to accept that.

Crime, or attempts at one, are always interrupting our daily life. And when one occurs, Barry must go and save the day.

I don't regret that he must go. I admire him for saving the day, time after time. But sometimes I do wish he left less often, even if he usually comes back within seconds.

This time, the criminals waited until we'd finished eating dinner. I suppose I should be grateful for that, but when five whole minutes passed and my husband still didn't return to the table, I admitted defeat and started to gather up the dishes.

It takes a while for the water to get hot. My fingers feel almost numb under the faucet, waiting for the change in temperature. But then it hits, and I start setting the dishes into the steamy water. I wait a few minutes to let the water soak in, and then I start to scrub.

I heave a sigh as I go to rinse, missing my husband already. And, okay, missing that he could have the dishes done in ten seconds flat.

A whoosh blows passed the drapes in the living room, and I feel the breeze all around me as the man I've been missing for hardly any time at all is suddenly before me.

"You're back," I say, unintentionally letting the bitterness seep into my tone.

"Yeah, it was just one thing after another, and I- Wait." He smirks. "Is somebody _jealous_?"

"No. _No_," I insist, but he smugly comes behind me anyways and wraps his arms around my waist, kissing the shell of my ear and then the spot on my neck just below it and then he's stretching the collar of my t-shirt to the side, so he can hit my sweet spot, and _oh, my God_.

I moan, helpless beneath his caresses, and he turns me around where I stand.

"But…the dishes," I protest half-heartedly. He grins.

"I'll finish the dishes later."

And then he kisses me on the lips, and I forget my own name, and for once the criminals leave us alone for the night.


	25. I'm Crying

**A/N:** The last drabble! Though this chap does make me want to write another fic of drabbles relating only to when Iris is pregnant. Idk when it'll happen, but sometime hopefully!

*****Many thanks to **sendtherain** for beta'ing.

...

**25\. I'm Crying**

It's happening again. I can feel it coming on.

I'm about to cry.

Not the sad kind. Nothing like that. In fact, despite the recent mood swings since getting pregnant, I've found myself happy more often than not. Practically blissful. But crying a lot. Definitely crying.

Barry hardly knows what to do with me, and I can't blame him. But I do praise him for being the perfect husband, despite his confusion at my happy tears, my absolute sobbing over something wonderful, which confuses him further and makes me laugh.

God bless my husband.

Right now, he's downstairs while I'm in our bedroom. I'm only a few months in, so I can still walk the stairs without feeling like I'm going to topple over backwards with only his speed to save me.

I've found an old photo album. It's one I didn't know about before my dad gave it to me right around the time Bear and I moved into the loft. It's filled with mementos from our childhood, mostly pictures of us smiling big, and some where we didn't know we were being photographed. My favorite shot is of us getting married when we were still pretty young, which is what started all of this crying, really. It's just too beautiful not to cry over.

I start _wailing_. Truly wailing. Borderline shrieking.

Barry zips up the stairs and is before me in seconds.

"What? What is it? What's wrong?"

I can't speak. I'm mumbling nonsense. And then finally I point at the wedding picture of us as kids and try to smile through the tears to reassure him.

Hesitantly, Barry angles his head so he can see the picture, rather than take it away from me. A smart move on his part. His lips quirk at the corners.

"Our first wedding," he says, then looks at me. "So…why are you crying?"

"Because it's _b_eautiful, _B_arry!" I nearly spit. I want to throw something at him, but the pillows are too far from me and the pictures are too precious.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

He gets down on his knees, flush against the side of the bed, then leans on and kisses my lips. He sinks his hands into my hair, and I hum appreciatively as I nuzzle my face against his.

"It is beautiful," he says, wiping my tears away.

I nod and sniffle. "We're having a baaaby."

Now he smiles wide. "Maybe we'll have two."


End file.
